Conspiracy
by XxFuyukaina-BakaxX
Summary: Iwaizumi and Oikawa have very different ideas on what Netflix and Chill means.
Iwaizumi Hajime stretches his arms above his head, cracking the bones pleasantly after finishing his homework for the night. He puts away his books and papers, packing up his bag in preparation for the morning. It still early evening and now he is free to do as he pleases. He doesn't even have practice in the morning, meaning he can sleep in a little longer.

Iwaizumi can't help but grin to himself at the happy turn of events.

And that's why, when his phone buzzes and he sees Oikawa's name light up his screen he feels no annoyance. In fact, he feels a bubbling of excitement because he's in a _fantastic_ mood. And he kind of wishes Oikawa were here to share it with him.

He slides his phone open to reveal the text.

 _Iwaaaaachaaaaaaaaaan_

 _Iwa chan_

 _Iwa cHAANNNNNN!_

Usually, Iwaizumi would have rolled his eyes at the series of texts of just his nickname, but instead he smiles fondly and responds,

 _Yeah?_

He waits as Oikawa types up his reply, wondering what he wants. Wondering what he's doing.

 _Come oveeeer_

 _I found a new Area 51 documentary on netflix! come over and watch it with me_

Iwaizumi blinks.

 _my parents are out for the weekend_

Iwaizumi sits up, a grin blossoming on his face. Is this what he thinks it is? He tries to think to the last time they had such a golden opportunity to be alone, only to draw a blank. Last time they'd had any fun was when Oikawa weaseled him away from his studying to fuck him against a bookshelf. And that was a) not comfortable and b) terrible for his quiz grade.

But this was perfect. No parents to disturb him. No practice in the morning. And all his homework was done.

Iwaizumi types at his phone with a new sense of urgency,

 _I'll be over in five_

He doesn't wait for a confirmation. He grabs at his jacket, calling out to his parents that he's sleeping over at Tooru's. He runs out the door and races to the familiar house a few doors down he often sees as his second home.

He knocks on the door, hoping on his heels excitedly. It takes a few minutes for Oikawa to finally open the door but when he does-

Iwaizumi is disappointed.

Oikawa is in his pajamas. His pajamas reserved for nights when he knows he doesn't have company. In other words, his ratty old alien themed t-shirt and pants.

Iwaizumi decides to shake the disappointment away because it doesn't matter what Oikawa is wearing, what matters is he won't be wearing it for long. Iwaizumi darts forward to press an earnest kiss onto his boyfriend's lips, only to have him turn away quickly, holding a bowl as a shield.

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa cries out, backing away with a frown, "You'll make me spill my popcorn."

Iwaizumi pauses, still half inside the house, half out, "Huh?"

"The popcorn." Oikawa continues, lowering the bowl for Iwaizumi to see, "For the documentary."

Iwaizumi blinks, "What?"

Oikawa pouts, "Do you not read my texts? I craft those carefully just for you!"

"I thought...Wait are we seriously watching a shitty area 51 documentary while your parents are gone?"

"Well yeah!" Oikawa insists, "Cause it means we can use the big TV in the living room what else-" He stops, eyes widening as realization dawns upon his pale pretty face, "Iwa-chan, YOU WERE JUST HERE TO USE ME FOR MY BODY!"

Iwaizumi reddens, because, well, it's true, "No-"

"You thought this was a _booty call_." Oikawa gasps, hand coming up to his face to cover his mouth for added effect, "You _sick_ pervert."

"Sick pervert?" Iwaizumi repeats, glaring, "Coming from _you_? That's rich."

"Iwa-chan, I will not have you disgrace my house with your filthy lies. And your general filth." Oikawa decides firmly with a severe frown.

"Oikawa."

"There will be no sinning in this house."

" _Oikawa_."

"I _really_ want to watch this documentary." Oikawa whines, eyes big and teary using the tone that makes Iwaizumi agree to anything. His shoulder's slump, creating the perfect illusion of a kicked puppy.

Iwaizumi grits his teeth but his forced to give away, because he's weak. Always has been to Oikawa, "Fine. We'll watch your dumb documentary."

Oikawa grins in victory, straightening himself up easily, "Follow me!" He calls, taking Iwaizumi's hand and leading him to their living room, as if Iwaizumi didn't already have Oikawa's house memorized.

They settle onto the couch, side by side. Oikawa tucks his long legs under himself, leaning heavily against Iwaizumi who's used to this arrangement by now. Still, he's not all that excited about the alien documentary because _all_ alien documentaries are the same. And he's seen way too many.

But they never seem to bore Oikawa.

Oikawa presses play and they fall into silence. A deep voiced narrator begins reciting some bullshit pseudo-science. Iwaizumi wonders why he lets this happen to himself. He doesn't _have_ to be here.

He glances over to see Oikawa's large brown eyes focuse on the screen. Mouth set in a determined frown as he takes in the information. He's leaning a bit forward, cradling his bowl of popcorn. His neck cranes a bit forward, and Iwaizumi's eyes follow the line down his neck to where skin disappears beneath old, fraying fabric.

He leans in a little, as if to rest his head on Oikawa's shoulder, and Oikawa lets him. But then Iwaizumi turns his head slightly, nuzzling into the crook where Oikawa's neck meets his shoulder. Iwaizumi feels his boyfriend shudder a little underneath him but say nothing else.

And so Iwaizumi presses further, peppering little kisses along Oikawa's neck, and as Oikawa does nothing to stop him he gets a bit bolder, grazing his teeth along the sensitive skin.

Oikawa whines, "Iwa- _chan_." He shrugs his shoulders to dissuade his boyfriend from his current assault on his neck.

"What?" Iwaizumi mumbles, breath tickling the wet skin of Oikawa's neck, making the brunet shiver.

"Stop it." Oikawa hisses with a pout, "I wanna watch."

Iwaizumi lifts his head, sees how serious Oikawa's expression is, and lets out a groan. He sits back down, sinking into the couch with his arms crossed.

"I know I'm irresistible." Oikawa sighs, as if it's his cross to bear, "But i need you to control yourself. Here, I'll help." Oikawa does some reshuffling, so he's lounging on the couch, back against the armrest, and legs across Iwaizumi's lap.

Iwaizumi wonders if he's doing this on purpose, shooting him a glare. Because, even though they haven't necessarily talked about it, it's no secret that Iwaizumi's favorite thing is to run his hands along Oikawa's smooth _long_ legs.

He swallows.

He peaks back up and sees the documentary showing some stock footage of the U.S. base. He really doesn't care. He looks back at his lap, as Oikawa's legs squirm a little and decides to rest his hands over them. Which is fine. Oikawa makes no comment.

But Iwaizumi can't just let his hands be, so they start to dance along the skin, running up and down ever so slowly, marveling at the softness of it all. He knows Oikawa moisturizes, and boy does it show. He massages the skin a bit, careful not to near his right knee that still acts up on his poor boyfriend every now and again.

Oikawa jolts a bit when the hands start running up his thigh, and he glares at Iwaizumi with a fierce pout, "Iwa-chan."

"Oikawa, _please_." Iwaizumi tries but Oikawa is having none of it, kicking him so he moves all the way down to the other end of the couch. Iwaizumi is starting to get aggravated, "Are you serious? I let you have your way when I'm doing way more important things!" He huffs, crossing his arms.

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa states seriously, "There is nothing more important than this documentary."

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, sinking lower into the couch because he's unbelievably horny and he's been cursed with the worst boyfriend in existence.

Even though they're on opposite ends of the couch, Oikawa's feet still land on his lap because the fucker is way too tall for his own good. But Iwaizumi lets them be and keeps his hands to himself like a good boy. Hanamakki is right, he _is_ whipped.

He wonders how long this stupid ass documentary even is. He wonders if once it's over Oikawa will let them have fun. He wonders if it'll ever end.

Oikawa squirms a little, his feet kneading at Iwaizumi's thigh and at first he doesn't think anything of it. Because Oikawa fidgets constantly and can never seem to stop moving.

But then he realizes the kneading is getting a bit excessive, and seems to be rising up his thighs.

Iwaizumi growls, grabbing his boyfriends offending feet by the ankles, glaring at him, "What's your deal?"

And then Oikawa has the audacity to _laugh_ , "Iwa-chan, I've never seen you so horny, oh my god."

Iwaizumi starts reddening, "Shut up."

But Oikawa is still laughing, and draws up his legs as he hugs them to his stomach, "Like, wow, I'm so flattered!"

Iwaizumi is trying to glare fiercely but it's not working.

"I mean, you _still_ haven't noticed." Oikawa cries out between peals of laughter. Iwaizumi blinks.

"Noticed what?"

Oikawa shakes his head and points at the screen. Iwaizumi sees the U.S. White House. Then he sees it blowing up. Wait..what?

"I literally changed the documentary to Independence Day without you noticing this is amazing. Is your brain so small that you can only focus on one thing at a time? Just on how hot I am?"

Iwaizumi kicks him, "I'm leaving." He decides, standing up.

Oikawa quiets down, leaning forward to wrap his arms around one of Iwaizumi's legs, "Oh, Iwa-chan don't be like that I was just _teasing._ " He draws out the word, squeezing at Iwaizumi's thigh as he does it.

Iwaizumi tightens his fists, "I fucking hate you."

"You love me," Oikawa practically _sings_ nuzzling his face into Iwaizumi's thigh and Iwaizumi can _feel_ his smile through the fabric of his pants. The bastard.

"No, I fucking hate you." He repeats, as if to convince himself. It would be the rationally thing to feel. it would solve a lot of his problems if it were true.

"Fine," Oikawa pouts, lifting his head up. He looks up at Iwaizumi, eyes big and doe-like, chin pressed into his thigh, "But you do love fucking me."

Oikawa has no business saying such lewd things with such an innocent face. Iwaizumi wants to punch him. He also wants to kiss him. Life is confusing that way.

"I'm leaving." Iwaizumi decides, again, trying to shake Oikawa away as he starts whining. His grip on him has his pants slipping down. Which is probably all part of Oikawa's evil plan. He wouldn't put it past him. "Get off."

"I'm trying to get _you_ off." Oikawa insists with a pout and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes despite how red his cheeks probably are.

"What happened to 'there will be no sinning in this house'." Iwaizumi reminds, with a raised brow.

"Iwa-chan, always such a prude. Do you think sex is a sin? You poor thing."

Iwaizumi does punch him then, and Oikawa finally releases him of his hold to whine and cover his face. Even though Iwaizumi had used zero force in his attack.

"Iwa-chan you are _so mea-"_

And the next thing Oikawa knows is he's on his back, lying on the couch, with Iwaizumi hovering on top of him.

"Iwa-chan, you're such a brute." Oikawa huffs, crossing his arms and turning to the side. "Manipulating me to get me into such a sexual position. For shame."

And Iwaizumi looks down at Oikawa incredulously. Because sometime's Oikawa is just _too_ absurd. Iwaizumi starts laughing, doubling over slightly as his shoulders quake. Oikawa stares at him but soon he too joins him in his giggles.

Iwazuimi pulls him up, getting his head in a headlock to start ruffling his hair. Oikawa starts squawking between his laughter, "Iwa-chan! M-My _hair!"_

Iwaizumi releases him, but keeps him upright by gripping his shirt. Their faces are incredibly close, chests heaving from their bout of laughter, "You. Are an _insufferable_ idiot."

Oikawa smiles at him, big and genuine, "But I'm _your_ insufferable idiot."

Iwaizumi grins despite himself, "Yeah. You are." And he pulls him in for a kiss that Oikawa finally returns, wrapping his arms around his neck to pull him closer. To kiss him deeper.

Iwaizumi's hands release their grip on Oikawa's shirt, slipping around to snake under the offending garment and run up his tone back. Oikawa arches slightly at the touch, gasping into the kiss. Iwaizumi takes the moment to start kissing down his neck again.

"Hajime."

Iwaizumi hums his answer, as he's nuzzling into Oikawa's neck.

"But don't you want to know the end of the documentary?"

Iwaizumi pulls up, takes the cushion besidge him, and presses it against Oikawa's face in one smooth action. Enough is enough.

Oikawa flounders underneath, flailing his arms.

"Shhhhh," Iwaizumi presses down harder, "I'm doing this for the greater good. Accept it."

After another second he releases his grip, lifting the cushion to find Oikawa's red face painted with an angry glare..

"Uncalled for." Oikawa snaps.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, leaning down again, "How dare you use my name for something so stupid."

Oikawa's lips tease up a little, "Does it do that much to you when I say it?"

Iwaizumi knows it's a challenge, and he's not one to back down. He smirks a little himself, "You tell me, _Tooru_."

Oikawa swallows.

And it seems like they're finally on the same page, but just to make sure Iwaizumi slams the TV off and flings the remote out of reach and before Oikawa can complain about _that_ , he occupies his mouth with his own.

Then they hear the front door open and a sweet feminine voice calling out, "Tooru!"

The pair freeze. Iwaizumi all but leaps off of Oikawa, scrambling to the other side of the couch.

"M-Mom?" Oikawa responds, eyes wide as he sits up quickly, "You're back?"

"Your father made a mistake, the reservations were for _next_ weekend." She sighs, slipping off her shoes.

"Oh." Oikawa murmurs, looking back sheepishly at where Iwaizumi is searching for the remote he tossed. They lock eyes.

 _I'm going to fucking kill you_.

And at this point Iwaizumi's decides that alien documentaries have nothing compared to the conspiracy against him getting laid tonight.

* * *

so i wrote this like a year ago? and just rediscovered it  
so here you go

reviews make me smile

see you next time


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